


Engima

by suzannahbee123



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Reader-Insert, Sam Wilson is Happy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22316263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzannahbee123/pseuds/suzannahbee123
Summary: Sam Wilson loves his girl, for every facet of her.
Relationships: Sam Wilson/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	Engima

She’s an enigma. Shy smiles and soft touches wrapped in pretty skin, touched with sunshine and sugar. Firm strokes and velvet voice in the inky black, teeth bright white in the moonlight where she takes his pleasure as her own.

She’s an enigma. An agent with a razor sharp mind who can out shoot Bucky, strategise better than Steve, and wear more faces than Natasha. Clumsy missed steps in public and loud raucous laughter at cartoons aimed at children.

Sam Wilson fell in lust with her after seeing her take down three men in ten seconds after saving Tony Stark's life, and he fell in  _ love  _ with her when she beat Wanda in a chocolate eating contest. Sticky sweet mess over her lips and fingers, still more beautiful than anyone else, and she demanded that  _ Sam  _ order her pizza because only  _ he  _ knew the best place.

She kept him on his toes, barked orders when he was in flight, velvet voice made diamond hard in the face of potential danger, followed by sparkling eyes holding onto crystal tears when she saw he had come back from a solo mission with as little as a scratch.

His enigma loved him for all he was. Whispered it into his ear in the hushed sanctuary of their shared apartment in the Tower, and yelled it loudly for all to hear in Central Park when the fans got too close. Held his hand during walks on sunny days and used those same hands to slam him into the mat during training.

To love her, and to be loved by her was a constant state of desire and peace. Seething frustration at not being at her side during missions, and sweet relief at having her curl herself around him, fitting perfectly in the space in his arms made for her.

Minutes without her hurt worse than a gut punch and dragged out into unending stretches of wasted time. Hours in her presence flew by faster than Sam could ever manage on the upgraded wings Tony had made for him.

She was a contradiction, the ying to his yang, smooth shimmering oil to his cool and clear water. She was an enigma and Sam loved her more and more each passing day. 

They shouldn’t blend so well, with her all fire and spark, ready to blow up, or provide life saving warmth depending on her mood. Not with how Sam craved her laughter as much as those sweet sounds he could pull from her throat when they were  _ alone _ .

The first time Sam had told his enigma that he loved her, whiskey and steak giving him the courage on the date he had carefully planned for just this moment, she had shrugged. Small smile that looked like any other followed by a raise of her glass and,

“To us, Sammy.”

Nonplussed could never do his feelings justice.

When  _ she  _ told  _ him _ she loved him for the first time, it was in front of a room full of agents, and after she had yelled blue murder at half of them for performing so poorly in a training task. The end of her rant had ended in;

“Everyone get the hell out and don’t come back until you can learn to take orders! Except you, Sam. I love you, so you can stay.”

Steve had choked on water. Bucky had grinned smugly and Sam thought he might not need his wings to fly again. Was she professional? No. Did she get reprimanded and threatened to be moved to another state due to “conflict of interests”? Yes.

They never moved her though,  _ or  _ him. Good agents were hard to find, and she was the best.

And she was  _ his.  _

That night, her touch was a brand, his a  _ relief _ . His bed became her heaven, her body was his temple. Sam had never loved anyone like he could with her. Every inch of them exposed, and not just their skin - such pretty skin she had - but their  _ souls.  _

His enigma was his addiction that made him whole.

Missions were a separate thing. Sam took his orders and she asked him for help,  _ not  _ that she ever seemed to need it. Missions were where  _ other  _ lives were at stake, other people’s lovers were the ones in danger and Sam and his enigma were there to save  _ them. _ Feelings were kept inside pretty boxes in their heads, never locked and always glowing, ready to be opened again… but they had to be separate.

After a mission, all bets were off.

Dark corners became small havens. The gym saw more than one type of exertion. Many times did Sam have to drag her out of a meeting room or the kitchen when the others would walk in and see far too much. 

Admonitions and threats would follow them from whatever room they were chased from, but Sam only heard her laughter and sultry promises for when they were alone again.

She was a contradiction. Soft and sweet promises in the hushed safety of their shared room. Strong arms holding him tight under sweet smelling sheets and murmurs of love and eternal devotion. Promises made and kept until both of them were breathless, skin glowing with sweat and sleep pulled at them together. Making love had never felt so good.

She was a contradiction. Greedy fingers seeking out secret places when other people were around. Eyes like a hawks that saw moments of opportunity where there should be none.

He loved her, she kept him on his toes.

Missions kept them apart, but she was there afterwards with a smile or a scowl, depending on how the mission went. A mission went bad, Sam received a tongue lashing in front of the team, followed by sobs and pleas to “never get hurt” in private. When they went well…

Sam had been a friend, a confidant, a roommate long before he had been hers. His enigma too, she had been there for many people before making him hers with a look from sugar glazed eyes. The time after a mission was not just for them. Successful or  _ not…  _ the team would need to come together. Galas and balls organised by Tony (obviously), or more sedate movie nights which were organised by Bucky and Wanda (surprisingly).

Tiredness from a long journey home on an already poor sleep schedule meant that Sam cared more about the story told between the sheets in his bed, with her in his arms, then whatever was going on on the large TV screen… alas, he was summoned, however. The team needed to bond after a mission, and Bucky had found the “perfect movie”. Apparently.

“This flick better have a lot of gratuitous violence. Or sex. Or  _ both,  _ Barnes,”

Her voice was hard, full of all the frustrations of  _ not  _ being with Sam… but her face was smiling. Never would she really tell off Bucky Barnes for wanting to be with his friends after a mission where he had had to pull the trigger once again.

Bucky promised at least one of those things to her, she laughed, Sam was dragged behind her to the mid sized couch at the back where she had already added extra blankets and pillows. A little comfy sanctuary to watch other people do crazy shit from.

And Bucky still smiled because they were all there. It meant a lot to Sam, even if he would never openly admit it… but she knew. That was what mattered.

She was…  _ devilish. _ The movie starts, Sam barely pays attention. Something crazy about a dead cop and being turned into a robot… sleep pulls at him. She’s laying next to him, soft scents and velvet skin… his friends are happily making fun of the plot and Tony starts calling Bucky, Robocop…

She shifts… just a little… moving the blanket just a little higher and nuzzling against his neck…

_ Firm strokes and velvet voice in the inky black… _

A groan almost chokes him… this isn’t the inky black and this is  _ far  _ from their room, but her hand is sneaking its way into his sweatpants and he’s already half hard for her. One idle touch and he’s ready for her… devil and angel and enigma…

Soft strokes. Barely touching. The lightning in his spine has barely started, a storm that could be blown away…  _ if  _ he lets it. Sam knows he holds the cards here. She will stop if he says so.

Maybe he ought to make it worth her while…

He doesn’t make her stop. The movie is boring and his girl is fun. Another shift, this time Sam moves, and they’re lying side by side. Her pretty face right in his.

Firmer strokes now. Surer. She knows how to use her hand just  _ so  _ to make the pleasure burst like fireworks… but so does he.

Her own sweatpants aren’t tight, his hand slides easily into the front of them. Sams  _ need  _ gets impossibly more powerful when his fingers meet nothing but skin under the soft cotton. 

“No panties, baby girl?”

“I like to plan ahead, honey,”

Her lips meet his. She tastes like salt and chocolate and such sweet danger. The most alluring flavour of woman Sam had ever had the privilege of savouring. She moves just a little closer, her leg rising to hook over his hip and there’s  _ more  _ for him to feel, to touch.

_ Hot, slick.  _

She feels like such beautiful torture against his fingers. All petal soft and he can’t  _ see,  _ can’t  _ taste.  _ But he can hear her tiny little gasps, the way her voice  _ begs  _ in the gentlest of whispers… and he can  _ feel  _ how she’s using his own desire to ease the pumping of her palm against his flesh…

“I love you, Sammy…”

“Love you too, baby girl…”

There’s lava in his veins instead of blood. Good clean thoughts replaced by the exquisite dirtiness of what they’re doing. Their friends, their  _ teammates  _ are right there, barely a few feet away and yet if he stops touching her, if  _ she  _ stops doing  _ that  _ to him, Sam is certain he will die.

There’s explosions and gunshots on the screen, chaos used for good as it helps mask the fact that she’s abruptly spasming, sinking bright white teeth into his shoulder to stop herself from crying out.

It makes Sam smug, and more than a little disappointed. She sounds amazing when she cries out for him… but this quiet is good. It’s a loud silence all for  _ him. _

The flash of pain from his shoulder, a burn that soothes, her twisting her wrist  _ that  _ way, and whole galaxies explode behind his eyes. He thrusts into her waiting palm once, twice… a third time…

“You’re gonna get us kicked outta here, Y/N,” 

“Like you’d regret being alone with me, permanently,”

She’s right. Regret is a word that doesn’t exist in his vocabulary when it comes to her. 

The movie is winding down, a few more explosions and screams, just some casual murder done right as it’s all in the name of revenge… and the room starts moving. His friends standing, stretching, going to get more snacks because there’s a second one in this series of stupidly entertaining movies.

“I need to get you cleaned up, big boy,”

“Funny that, I was just thinking I could use a shower, baby girl,”

She winks, grinning like a Cheshire Cat at him from against the cushions, “We should shower together. I think I missed a spot  _ just now.” _

It’s torture, the most alluring kind, waiting for her to get up and having his arms pulled around her waist. She’s at his front, keeping the dark patch at the front of his sweatpants hidden from everyone’s view. She’s close, no air in between them. She smells of vanilla soap, popcorn and sex. Her voice is honey, fake yawns erupt from her mouth when she makes an excuse for them both to go to bed early.

The team buys it, says “goodnight” and “rest up” to them as they leave and Sam has to bite back a laugh when Steve and Sharon plonk themselves on the couch they just vacated. He should feel some guilt but the gossip was that Steve had seen just as much action with his girl in places not designed for bedroom activities.

They leave, Sam holding her secure to his front all the way into the bedroom. There’s no room for clothing now, it ends up scattered across the space in seconds. The warm spray of the shower can never compare to the soothing caress of her mouth against his neck, his chest… lower…

All soft lips and teasing tongue… another white hot release before he spins her back around, sinks into her from behind so he can hold every curved inch of her to him. She’s his home. Sam feels alive when he’s inside her and safe when she’s in his arms.

She’s crazy. She’s wild. She’s loving and beautiful and smart. His enigma with the face of an angel and the personality of the devil. She would tempt him into hell and then scatter cushions across the rocky surface so he could be comfortable.

She’s caring, funny, strong and smart. An enigma.

And she’s  _ his. _


End file.
